Review – Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Film Music Gala, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 5th July 2019

Posted on July 8, 2019 by therealchrisparkle

This is the second time that we have seen the Royal Philharmonic perform a Film Music Gala at the Royal and Derngate; the first, in 2017, featured soloist Alison Jiear to sing some Bond themes and I Will Always Love You from The Bodyguard. No soloist this time, which was perhaps a shame, as some vocals add variety to a gala night, when the orchestra is performing a number of short pieces; eighteen this time, plus an encore.

Nevertheless, it was still a very enjoyable show, with the Royal Philharmonic on excellent form. This time they were under the baton of Pete Harrison, who was new to us; he’s used to conducting West End Show orchestras and Pop/Classic crossover concerts – and we were really impressed to learn that he conducted the Russian State Symphony Orchestra in Moscow playing the music of Pink Floyd. Now that’s eclectic.

Mr Harrison is a warm and friendly chap, clearly with a great rapport with the orchestra which also conveys itself into the auditorium. The nature of this concert meant that he spent a lot of time with the microphone introducing the various pieces to us and/or commenting about them afterwards and he obviously really enjoys bringing this kind of music to a large audience; and, I must say, the Derngate was pretty packed, with concertgoers of all ages.

Some of the pieces they had played before in the previous concert, some were new to the repertoire. We started with the Main Theme to The Big Country, with its broad, bright suggestion of wide open spaces and heroic cowboys. Next was the end reworking of the Main Theme from Jurassic Park, more melodic than brash, but very welcome. After that came the theme from Legends of the Fall, bookended by some beautiful, reflective piano playing by Roderick Elms. Back to the bold and brash with Where Eagles Dare, but then much more reflective and evocative with Out of Africa.

The concert continued with John Williams’ theme to Schindler’s List, then The Fellowship of the Ring, Gabriel’s Oboe (from The Mission), going into the interval with the triumphant 633 Squadron. After the break, we went back in history somewhat to Sir Arthur Bliss’ Things to Come march from 1936; then the bold and contemporary fun of Apollo 13 – the Last Frontier, and The Da Vinci Code – Chevaliers de Sangreal. Two much more well-known pieces followed – Lara’s Theme from Doctor Zhivago (no 1960s easy listening album was complete without a version of this) and the famous Born Free, from the film of the same name. Then something very different – Ashokan Farewell from The Civil War, with leader of the orchestra Duncan Riddell showing his mastery of the folk violin style.

The last pieces of the concert were the famous Raiders March from Raiders of the Lost Ark – which I thought sounded especially tremendous – then Jack Sparrow’s theme from Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, and finally the main theme from Star Wars – a true crowdpleaser (and one we heard only a month ago in the RPO’s Planets show). For an encore they performed the Flying Theme from E.T. – and a very warm finish to the concert it was too.

Maybe not the most cerebrally demanding evening of orchestral music but this show’s prime purpose is to entertain with some great pieces of modern composition – and it certainly does that! The Royal Philharmonic will be back in Northampton on 22nd September with a programme of Tchaikovsky music. I’m expecting something very lively!

Review – Alan Buribayev Conducts Chopin, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Derngate, Northampton, 8th April 2018

Posted on April 11, 2018 by therealchrisparkle

Once again we welcome back the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to one of their satellite venues around the UK here at the Royal and Derngate in Northampton, for an exciting programme of Czech, Polish and Finnish music. Our conductor was the ebullient and hard-working Alan Buribayev, whom we saw here two years ago in a fantastic concert that was the winner of the 2016 Annual Chrisparkle Award for Best Classical Concert. So we knew we were going to be in for a treat. This was also our first chance to see Alexandra Wood as First Violinist for the orchestra.

We started with the overture to Smetana’s The Bartered Bride, his 1866 opera that remains one of his best-known works. The overture was written separately, before the rest of the opera, which possibly explains why it’s such an arresting stand-alone piece of music. The strings of the Royal Philharmonic could not resist the opportunity to launch into a full-scale attack on Smetana’s buzzy, vibrant, compelling arrangement, which gripped the audience instantly like a hundred angry bumble bees and did not let go for six brilliant minutes. A great way to start the concert.

Then it was time for the orchestra to disperse whilst the heavy mob brought in the Grand Steinway for our soloist for the afternoon, Alexander Romanovsky, a (fairly) last minute replacement for the original billing of Mark Bebbington, so we’d hoped he’d had long enough to practice Chopin’s Piano Concerto No 2 in F Minor, Op 21. We needn’t have worried. Mr Romanovsky takes to the stage like a snazzy younger version of Will Self, serious and controlled, seated business-like at the piano awaiting his cues. Whilst he’s not playing he simply looks straight ahead, relaxed but unemotional, almost like a non-participatory observer – but looks clearly can be deceptive.

If he gives off an unemotional air, that doesn’t translate to his playing. He has the most exquisite lightness of touch, delicately coaxing the fullest and most resounding note from each deliberately pressed piano key. He’s the perfect exponent for Chopin at his most fluttery, his fingers going nineteen-to-the-dozen up and down the keyboard whilst his expression remains one of swan-like calm. It was an incredible performance; and really drew out all Chopin’s superb melodies that are packed into this vivacious concerto, especially the final movement, which I found particularly exciting. When it was all over, Mr Romanovsky allowed himself to crack a smile, so I guess he was pleased at the result. He certainly should have been.

After the interval we returned for a performance of Sibelius’ Symphony No 2 in D Major, Op 43. I’d not heard this symphony before and, I must confess gentle reader, I found it a real challenge. Whilst some of Sibelius’ music has an instant appeal, there’s also quite a lot that sounds to me rather murky and hard to appreciate on first hearing. The excellent programme notes discuss how the first movement of this piece is like a mosaic, with small fragments of music appearing disparately at first but finally coming together to create a whole. Well, I have to confess I found that rather obscure whole hard to recognise! Of course, the RPO were on great form, and individual moments sounded terrific. But I couldn’t grasp it somehow.

The second movement felt easier: tempo andante, ma rubato – so, at a moderate pace but not rigidly; flexible, to bring out the emotion, and I thought the orchestra (and Mr Buribayev) achieved this brilliantly. The third and fourth movements seemed so crammed with all sorts of musical ideas, that it came across as a difficult and challenging piece to listen to, exhausting even; but also incredibly rewarding. There were some truly superb passages that really sang out, and I think I need to give the symphony another listen before long to try to appreciate what I missed!

Another superb performance by the Royal Philharmonic; when the audience’s sustained applause brought Mr Buribayev back to the podium for a fourth time, no one was in any doubt the extent to which the whole programme had been appreciated. This was another matinee performance by the RPO; it’s great if that encourages a wider age range of concertgoers, although I still, personally, prefer my classical concerts in the evening. I look forward to their evening of Ballet music coming up in June!

Review – Michael Petrov Performs Tchaikovsky, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 18th February 2018

Posted on February 21, 2018 by therealchrisparkle

I reckon that attending live performances is habit-forming and after a while, if you see enough, you can end up on auto-pilot. That’s the reason that Mrs Chrisparkle and I kept checking our tickets on Sunday to ensure that this visit of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra really was scheduled for 3pm and not the usual 7.30pm. It just didn’t quite feel right to be there in the afternoon! There’s no doubt, however, that the matinee performance enabled several more children to attend the concert which is a great thing, especially as this was by no means a children’s programme – there were four, perfectly meaty, substantial and adult pieces of classical music to enjoy, and I hope any new youthful concertgoers found it as exciting and rewarding as we did.

Our conductor for this concert was Rory Macdonald, whom we’ve seen just once before, when Natalie Clein performed Dvořák’s Cello Concerto in B Minor three years ago. He still doesn’t seem to have aged at all, and I’m more than ever sure that he has a grand selfie mouldering in his attic somewhere. He’s an exuberant conductor, one who likes to reach out on tippytoes to get the maximum out of his musicians. With his sleek black hair and formal attire, I couldn’t get the vision of Mary Poppins’ cartoon penguins out of my head. But he does a great job, so far be it from me to take the mickey.

Our first piece was Beethoven’s Egmont Overture. What a grand way to start a concert, with its compelling tunes and robust orchestration. It’s a superbly muscular and self-confident piece of music – everything an overture should be – and the orchestra rose to the challenge magnificently. I also appreciated the slightly pacier tempo which made its strength and power stand out. A great start.

Next we had two pieces of music that were new to me. Two Elegiac Melodies, Op. 34 by Edvard Grieg. I love Grieg’s music and it was a treat to discover something new by him. All the woodwind and percussion left the stage so that we only had the string players – I say “only”, but the lush sound they produced was sensational for these two pure and sincere reflective pieces. There’s nothing comfortable about the Elegiac Melodies, and I found them strangely disconcerting; but I really loved the performance.

After this, there was some general reorganisation as the rest of the orchestra returned and a platform was provided, centre stage, for our soloist, the cellist Michael Petrov. Amongst all the black evening dresses of the ladies of the orchestra and the formal suits of the men, Mr Petrov strode on to the stage in a white shirt not tucked in at the waist, no collar, no jacket, no tie, but with a calm and creative aura about him. He looked like a benign dentist – the sort who doesn’t complain at you if he suspects you haven’t been cleaning your teeth properly.

Mr Petrov was there to play Tchaikovsky’s Variations on a Rococo Theme, Op 33. This was another piece I’d never heard before and I was instantly taken by it. Tchaikovsky takes a relatively simple theme and wraps it around his little finger with seven variations and an astonishing cadenza from Mr Petrov where you could hear a pin drop, so alert were the audience to the passionate tones he produced from his 1846 J B Vuillaume cello – proving that old is often best. The Variations are a great vehicle to show off a bravura performance and Mr Petrov did that with apparently effortless ease. He brought out the humour of some of the cheekier variations and the solemnity of the andante sections. No sheet music, no grand gestures; just a thoughtful and disciplined performance that held the audience spellbound. We absolutely loved it – and now I need to find a decent recording of this piece for my own music library.

This performance was of the Fitzenhagen arrangement of the Variations; Fitzenhagen was the principal cellist with the Orchestra of the Imperial Russian Music Society in Moscow, to whom Tchaikovsky had dedicated the work, but then who chopped and changed the Variations around, much to the annoyance of Tchaikovsky. But maybe Fitzenhagen knew what he was doing, because it’s such an enjoyable mini-concerto, and it’s usually his version that gets performed.

After the interval we returned for a performance of Mendelssohn’s Symphony No 4 in A Major, Op 40, better known as the Italian Symphony. As soon as its happy and playful major theme strikes up in the first movement, you’re transported away to sunny climates and a lovely Mediterranean lifestyle. Under Mr Macdonald’s enthusiastic direction, the orchestra brought us all the joy of the first movement, then to change dramatically to the crestfallen sound of the second movement, with its connotations of funereal respect, the stately minuet of the third movement and the raucous scampering of the saltarello dance of the fourth. It was all performed with amazing vigour and energy and had the audience on the edge of its seat with excitement at the end.

A fantastic concert that introduced me to some riveting new pieces and a super soloist. And it was all over by teatime! The next classical offering from the Royal Philharmonic will be in April, with a varied programme of Czech, Polish and Finnish music. Can’t wait!

Review – Francesca Dego Performs Bruch, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 26th November 2017

Posted on November 28, 2017 by therealchrisparkle

Another opportunity to welcome back the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to their spiritual East Midlands home, for a stirring concert of Beethoven, Brahms and Bruch. Our conductor was Mathieu Herzog, whom we haven’t seen before, but he’s a lively and charismatic presence on the podium. All decked out in a trendy, shiny frock coat with yellow beading, he’s one of those conductors who likes to throw himself into the music, arms reaching out in all directions to encourage every individual member of the orchestra to give their best. I think you can divide conductors into two kinds: those who never stand on tiptoe, and those who rarely don’t. M. Herzog definitely belongs in the latter category!

First on the agenda was Beethoven’s Coriolan Overture. This has nothing to do with Shakespeare’s Coriolanus, but was written in 1807 for Heinrich Joseph von Collin’s 1804 tragedy Coriolan; not that it matters to today’s concertgoer. It’s a great start to a recital as it instantly arrests you with its bold and attacking style. You can really imagine old Ludwig van stabbing his baton at a petrified orchestra coaxing all those staccato beats out of the violins. Full of stops and starts, it’s impossible to listen to it without your head nodding up and down, furiously, in time to the rhythm. It showed off the orchestra’s fantastic strings to their best.

Next, we had the first of our two Brahms’ pieces, the Hungarian Dance No 6 in D Major. From stabbing, dramatic strings to gypsy swing strings in one fell swoop, you could almost smell the goulash. It was played with a great sense of fun and briefly transported you to some Czardas club in Budapest where your mind’s eye lingered on imaginary ladies in swirling skirts and gentlemen in knee-high boots. Pure escapism in three minutes, fifty seconds.

Taking us into the interval was the performance of Bruch’s Violin Concerto No 1 in G Minor. This is quite a favourite of the Royal Philharmonic, as we have seen them perform it in both 2009 and 2014, when Chloe Hanslip turned in an amazing performance. Our soloist this time was Francesca Dego, a statuesque vision in lemon, brandishing an antique violin; according to the programme, she uses two violins, a Francesco Ruggeri, dated 1697, and a Guarneri del Gesu from 1734 – which she presumably refers to as “the new one”. Her dramatic appearance reflects her dramatic performance, as she produced the most glorious tone from the instrument, both blending perfectly with the rest of the orchestra and also standing out with its own enhanced clarity. I’m always impressed when someone plays as complex a piece as this without any sheet music to hand. I loved how the three movements all blended seamlessly together, and it was an exciting, moving, and authoritative performance which the appreciative audience in the Derngate auditorium absolutely loved.

When we came back from the interval, there was a little surprise before the final piece. Managing Director of the RPO, James Williams, introduced us to Sir Peter Ellwood, who was given the orchestra’s highest accolade, that of Honorary Membership, in recognition of his support and work with the orchestra over the past twenty years. James presented the membership together with trumpeter Adam Wright. Sir Peter also happens to be Vice Lord-Lieutenant of Northamptonshire, so we wondered if he played a role in establishing the great connection between the orchestra and the Royal and Derngate. If so, well played sir!

The second part of the concert consisted of a performance of Brahms’ Symphony No 4. I love a Brahms Symphony. In fact, I remember, as a student, treating myself to a recording of each of the four symphonies, one a week, over the first part of a very difficult term – I’d buy one as a treat and a self-congratulation for getting through yet another tutorial. Being a (relatively) penniless student, I could only afford the Music For Pleasure recordings (remember them?) and they were by the Hallé Orchestra, under the baton of James Loughran. I thought they were fantastic. I confess that the first symphony is my ultimate favourite, but who’s going to turn up an opportunity to hear the fourth symphony performed live?

It was superb. I loved how the first movement shows off like a musical version of a question and answer session. Then when the second movement got going the pizzicato sequence was so impressive. It felt almost mournful but with a great resilience. And then the final two movements, which are a) lively and b) even livelier, were played with such gusto that it was hard for your brain to keep up with the music. The violinists were playing so vigorously that their arms were literally a blur. A wonderful performance, and a fitting end to a very exciting concert. The composers may have been Beethoven, Brahms and Bruch – three B’s – but it was an A+ evening. The RPO are next back in town on February 18th 2018 for an afternoon of Beethoven, Grieg, Tchaikovsky and Mendelssohn. Already looking forward to it!

Review – The Twelfth Malcolm Arnold Festival, Gala Concert, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Derngate, Northampton, 15th October 2017

Posted on October 16, 2017 by therealchrisparkle

Once again the Royal and Derngate played host to the annual Malcolm Arnold Festival, celebrating the work, life and influence of one of Northampton’s finest Local Boys Done Good. This year’s title was “His Music Abounds in Singable Tunes”, and I can’t imagine a more fitting tribute. A dozen events – concerts, talks, even the re-enactment of a radio programme – all took place over the weekend, culminating in the usual pizazz of the Gala Concert in the Derngate auditorium. Again, we had the pleasure to welcome the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, under the baton of John Gibbons who’s been conducting these Malcolm Arnold concerts since he was about five years old, by my reckoning.

For reasons that he explained later, Mr Gibbons had decided to shuffle the order in which the pieces of music would be played. We started off with Arnold’s arresting River Kwai March from Bridge on the River Kwai; a perfect starter with its rousing atmosphere and cheerful arrangement. Military brass and smashing cymbals at the ready, the Royal Philharmonic gave it a great rendition and put a smile on everyone’s faces.

Next we had Malcolm Arnold’s Fifth Symphony. John Gibbons forewarned us that, if we weren’t already familiar with it – I wasn’t – we might find it challenging; but it’s also exuberant, cerebral, and full of singable tunes (as we had been promised.) It impressed me as a work of great variety. Premiered in 1961, Arnold included several musical references in memory of friends whom he had lost, including humourist and tuba-thumper Gerard Hoffnung, Frederick Thurston the clarinettist, and Arnold’s own brother Aubrey, who had taken his own life a few months earlier. So you can tell it’s a piece of work that demands to be taken seriously.

The first movement isn’t described as Tempestuoso for nothing. It’s full of attack, at times almost aggressive; but I did love the way the harp and celeste played together, creating the sound equivalent of fat golden droplets of rain – well that’s how it felt to me. The second movement is much more lush and warm, with the violins buzzing away together like a deep lullaby – it did actually send Mrs Chrisparkle off to sleep for a short while. The third movement (con fuoco) was one of those instant hits when you really love a classical tune, even if, afterwards, it’s really hard to recollect it. I loved that quirky rhythm and part-played, part-omitted melody. Everything gets brought together in the final movement, and I was really impressed with it. I’ll have to buy a recording of it! Again, the RPO gave it everything.

After the interval, the Steinway had been wheeled into place for our only non-Arnold segment of the evening, a performance of Grieg’s Piano Concerto, with soloist Arta Arnicane. Always a favourite piece of music, I knew I had to steel myself not to sing along to the words of the Song of Norway – and I succeeded, much to everyone’s relief. Ms Arnicane looked stunning in a glistening steely grey dress – I couldn’t help but think that the long hem would have got in the way of the piano pedals, but I guess she knew what she was doing. There are so many fantastic sequences in the piano concerto but what most impressed me – and amused me – was how Ms Arnicane’s personal deportment changed with the mood of the music. For the strong, passionate parts she’d sit upright and authoritatively; for those languid phrases she’d almost flop over the keys. When Grieg got playful she’d wiggle from side to side as if preparing for a game of keyboard hopscotch. She really expressed the music so beautifully not only through the sound coming out of the piano but also through her own physical presence. I also loved her delicacy of touch, sometimes coaxing the music out with what appeared to be just the minimum of pressure. It was stunning.

Our final piece was Malcolm Arnold’s Heroes of Telemark. This was the first time that this piece had received a concert performance; having languished in film companies’ files for several decades after the film was made in 1965. The piece was re-shuffled to the end of the concert because, when the listing was originally produced, John Gibbons, who was creating the suite from the separate, individual passages of film, hadn’t yet finalised the work (reading between the lines, it was a much bigger job than he was expecting!)

As expected, it’s full of ravishing Arnoldesque moments, with stirring tunes, thumping orchestrations and a few delightful surprises. Mr Gibbons had told us that we would easily be able to identify the German marching songs (correct) and the big moment when the Allies exploded the plant where the Germans were making Heavy Water – also correct. I must be honest though and say that on the whole I didn’t think it really gelled as an orchestral suite. No question it was fascinating to listen to, and for Arnold enthusiasts (of whom there were plenty in the audience) a unique opportunity to hear something that’s been largely lost for fifty years; but for me, I won’t need to hear it again for a good while.

Nevertheless, a great night of classical entertainment, with a fantastic soloist and some amazing performances. Now to hunt down that third movement to the Fifth Symphony!

Review – Raphael Wallfisch Performs Elgar’s Cello Concerto, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 12th March 2017

Posted on March 14, 2017 by therealchrisparkle

Circumstances have conspired against our attending the two most recent Royal Philharmonic concerts in Northampton, but on Sunday we were back with a vengeance to see a rousing performance of German and British music. Our conductor this time was Jac van Steen, new to us; an enthusiastic Dutchman who has the air of a kindly dentist; he seems extremely affable and wants you to be at your utmost ease, but if it calls for it, he’d be in for the kill like nobody’s business.

Our opening piece was the Prelude to Act One of Lohengrin by Wagner. I was expecting that stirring, arresting introductory brassy tune that puts you in mind of Valkyries and big fat sopranos – but no, that’s the Prelude to Act Three. Act One’s starts far more gently, with violin strings all a-quiver, but nevertheless building up to a major frenzy, perfectly representing the search for the Holy Grail which is what the programme notes said it was about. The orchestra were obviously champing at the bit and it was a very exciting and enjoyable start to the concert. Quiz question: what’s the difference between a prelude and an overture? No, I can’t work that one out either.

Next it was time to meet our soloist, Raphael Wallfisch, to perform Elgar’s Cello Concerto. We’d seen Julian Lloyd Webber perform the same piece nearly six years ago, but it’s hard to recall one performer’s interpretation of a piece after such a long time. Mr Wallfisch is another avuncular looking fellow, but with a rather serious, workmanlike attitude to his playing that belies the immense passion of the music he produces. Without any reference to any sheet music, he plunges his instrument into the deep gravitas of the opening movement, making his instrument take centre stage so that you watch the bow attacking the bridge of the cello rather than looking at the intent concentration on Mr Wallfisch’s face. In juxtaposition, Mr van Steen is sometimes up on his tippytoes coaxing all the emotion out of the strings, at other times thrusting himself downwards in the conclusion of a bar. There’s an electrically exciting sequence in the second movement (I think – I’m fairly unfamiliar with this piece and the boundaries between the movements were hard to identify) where Mr Wallfisch plays the cello with such vim and vigour that from our seat it looked as though he was whittling down some wood to fashion a set of cricket stumps. I’m not sure it was spiccato, more like old fashioned twiddling. Suffice to say it was an extraordinary performance and it was clear that everyone loved it.

After the interval, we returned for Beethoven’s 7th Symphony. We’d seen the RPO perform this before as well, a full seven years ago, conducted by Garry Walker. Then, as now, I can never remember what that special tune is that dominates the second movement. But as soon as it kicks in I remember why I love it so much. It has a sparse melancholy about it; a sense that happiness may be just around the corner but you’re never quite going to achieve it. And I love how Beethoven gives it just the one proper airing, building from a quiet start to an emotional fulfilment, but never ever going back to it, no matter how much you yearn to hear it again. Mr van Steen had to apply a reverse coaxing mechanism, where, rather than draw the passion out of the orchestra, he actively suppressed it, making those sad echo moments in the movement even softer than usual, creating a despairing exquisiteness to the whole thing. It was just sensational.

In many respects, the symphony is Beethoven’s Greatest Hits, with the brightness of the first movement, the playfulness of the third and the overwhelming victory of the final movement. The orchestra gave it a superb performance, and yes, excitable man in the Upper Circle Box, we all saw you on your feet conducting away to your heart’s content. We were blown away by the sheer vitality and force of the Royal Philharmonic’s performance. A great concert!

Review – Alexandra Dariescu Performs Rachmaninov, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Derngate, Northampton, 15th May 2016

Posted on May 17, 2016 by therealchrisparkle

There’s nothing quite like a classical concert when you’ve been a bit stressed. That old line about music having charms to soothe the savage breast? Darn right. It doesn’t matter if it’s soft and gentle or belting and Wagnerian, music can take the place of a sensual massage any day of the week. I was in the mood for a musical massage, so the timing was perfect! And it’s always a pleasure to welcome back the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to Northampton, the artistic hub of the East Midlands as I like to call it.

Our conductor for this mixed programme of German and Russian music was rising star M. Fabien Gabel, music director of the Quebec Symphony Orchestra, and a handsome and debonair chap to boot. I always like to observe the different ways that conductors work to get the best out of their orchestras. Some get swept away by a veritable tsunami of enthusiasm; others take control with a mere flick of their baton. M. Gabel takes a moderate path, his body lurching at a positive angle towards whatever section of the orchestra he’s addressing. The motion would be enough to send me to the chiropractors – but it certainly works well for him.

The first item on the musical agenda was the overture to Humperdinck’s Hansel and Gretel. I do like a good overture to start the ball rolling, and I was unfamiliar with this piece. It’s a very enjoyable mix of the smooth and the staccato and I thought the orchestra did a terrific job with it – beautifully clear phrasing, excellent precision. And there wasn’t a whiff of Release Me about it.

After the overture, the violins had to form a string huddle in the corner of the stage whilst the big guys wheeled on the super Steinway. I can never decide if this rearrangement procedure helps to build up expectation or just looks a bit silly. Half and half, I guess. Leader of the orchestra Duncan Riddell took his seat only to send one of his chair chucks flying, so there was a little more rearrangement to take place before we were able to greet our soloist for the evening, the officially fabulous Alexandra Dariescu. We had already seen Miss Dariescu here before when she performed Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 21, and had the interval crowd buzzing with excitement afterwards. This time she performed Rachmaninov’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, which is another RPO favourite – we saw it here three years ago performed by Peter Jablonski.

After a minor contretemps between Miss Dariescu’s billowing dress and Mr Riddell’s violin stand (the dress, being the more substantial of the two, won), she sat down at the piano and gave us a most amazing performance, full of excitement, jokiness, passion and irreverence. From where we sit, we get a great view of the pianist’s hands on the keyboard. I can tell you there were times during that piece when they were a complete blur. My eyes could not assimilate all that dexterity, and it’s hard to imagine the brain messages that get processed to tell your fingers to move so quickly and so accurately. It took everyone’s breath away. Her reception was so enthusiastic that she returned for an encore – Ginastera’s Argentinian Dance No 2 – a charming little piece that I’d not heard before but full of South American flavour which flourished under Miss Dariescu’s delicate touch.

After the interval we were treated to a very grand experience – Beethoven’s 5th Symphony. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard this performed live before, and it goes without saying what a tremendous work of art it is. From those initial stabbing chords to the final triumph of its ending, there’s not a note wasted that doesn’t play a vital part in its overall effect and structure. It calls for vigour and bravado in its playing and it certainly got that. There’s so much going on during that performance that it was a wonder M. Gabel kept it all together – but he did. I was caught out by the sudden jump from third to fourth movement and it was only just before the end that I realised we were, indeed, just before the end. A hugely entertaining performance of what must be an extraordinarily demanding work. Thanks again to the Royal Philharmonic for continuing to bring their magic to us here in Northampton – may you never cease!

P. S. We weren’t able to order interval drinks – that’s the policy when there’s only a short time before the interval, half an hour we were told. That timing didn’t quite make sense to me, but hey ho. However, after all the piano shifting and the encore, the first part of the concert ended up being a good fifty minutes. Queueing unnecessarily for interval drinks is one of my pet hates, but I didn’t complain. Much. And actually the Beethoven was over relatively quickly, so I ended up finishing my Shiraz whilst walking home (a route that took me through a no-alcohol restricted zone but don’t tell anyone). I had already decided that if the police stopped me I was going to say “Beethoven made me do it.”

Review – Alan Buribayev conducts Sheherazade, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 21st February 2016

Posted on February 22, 2016 by therealchrisparkle

Once again we welcomed the return of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to the hallowed portals of the Derngate Auditorium for a programme of German and Russian music under the baton of Alan Buribayev. Mr Buribayev is new to us and cuts a dashing figure in his modernistic shiny suit. He’s one of those conductors who gets carried away with the vigour of it all and frequently ends up using his full body and not just his arms in cajoling the orchestra to give him what he wants. After real exertion he even lets out audible gasps and grunts because he’s concentrated so hard. Personally, I didn’t mind that. It makes you realise that this music business isn’t just pretty-pretty but also has its fair share of blood, toil, tears and sweat. I felt I got my money’s worth.

Our first piece was the overture to the Flying Dutchman by Wagner. I always like it when they start a concert with an overture. It just feels right. They’re designed to capture your attention, give you a lot of tuneage in a reasonably short space of time, and then leave you wanting more at the end. This overture does all that in bucket loads. An orchestral interpretation of a windswept storm-tossed sea, there were plenty of waves breaking on rocky shore to get your musical taste buds flowing. Full of attack, the violins in particular gave a terrific account of themselves; which would also be a foretaste of the excitement yet to come. A really great opener.

Second up was Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, featuring our soloist Anna-Liisa Bezrodny. With a conductor from Kazakhstan and a soloist born in Moscow, it truly was a cosmopolitan bill of fare. Who knew that Tchaikovsky only wrote one violin concerto? I’d have thought he’d have made it a speciality. But no, he wrote just the one, at great speed, and the programme notes tell us how personally liberating it was for him to produce it. It’s well known for being a real challenge to play – technically demanding to the highest degree, so it needs a fantastic soloist.

Step up to the mark Ms Bezrodny. A vision in shimmering scarlet, she took her place at the front of the orchestra like the brightest crown jewel fronting the plainest crown (and here I mean no disservice to the other musicians). Even when she’s tackling what are obviously the most challenging passages, she seems to do it with natural ease. The effort and concentration required to play the concerto come from an inner strength rather than an outward show. Her playing was extraordinary. She evinced such complex musicality from her Amati violin. Even in the hustle and bustle of the vigour of the music, she never sacrificed purity of tone; in fact she seemed to create one where you wouldn’t have thought it possible. The audience were spellbound – you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. Her first movement cadenza especially was out of this world. Even though it’s frowned on to do so, a large proportion of the audience could not hold back from rapturous applause at the end of the first movement, so mind-blowing was the performance. The concerto is a stunning piece, so full of different moods and emotions, and Ms Bezrodny was more than a match for it. Everyone went into the interval gobsmacked with pleasure.

The second half of the concert was devoted to a performance of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Sheherazade. It’s one of those pieces that I always know that I really like, but for some reason, whenever I think of it I can never quite bring the themes to mind. I have no idea why that is, because it is a really stirring piece of music, again with so many wonderful melodies and textures. Mr Buribayev encouraged terrific performances from the entire orchestra but the contribution from the violins was just amazing. It was almost as though they had said during the interval we can’t let that soloist take all the credit, we’ve got to show them what we’re made of too – this was particularly evident in the first and final movements.

Elsewhere I thought Daniel Jemison made a particularly fine effort with his bassoon portraying the Kalendar Prince in the second movement, Suzy Willison-Kawalec’s harp contributions were beautiful and emotional, and orchestra leader Duncan Riddell gave such a superb rendition of the triumphant Scheherazade at the end, that you couldn’t take your eyes of his bow. By keeping his arms outstretched for the longest possible time, Mr Buribayev dramatically kept the silence at the end of the piece until we were literally bursting to applaud; and as conductor congratulated First Violinist at the end I could lip-read him saying to Mr Riddell the words “absolutely outstanding”, which must be high praise indeed. And who would disagree? A stunning performance from everyone involved – one of those occasions when you walk back home afterwards realising you had witnessed something very special. A brilliant night.

P.S. Shockingly, Anna-Liisa Bezrodny doesn’t have a Wikipedia entry. Someone needs to do something about this!

P.P.S. This year it’s the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s 70th birthday. They’re looking in fine fettle. Must be eating very healthily and taking lots of exercise. Congratulations to them!

Review – Alexander Shelley Conducts From Paris to New York, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Derngate, Northampton, 8th November 2015

Posted on November 9, 2015 by therealchrisparkle

The first of this season’s Royal Philharmonic Orchestra concerts kicked off with a fascinating and beautifully balanced programme of American and Russian music under the title of “From Paris to New York”. The New York connection is fairly obvious for the works of Gershwin and Bernstein, but why Paris? Well, apparently both Prokofiev and Stravinsky worked with Diaghilev of the Ballets Russes, both composers lived in Paris, and many of their works were premiered in there. Our conductor for the evening was Alexander Shelley, whom we’ve seen three times here over the last few years; a reassuringly communicative and friendly chap who gets the best out of the orchestra whilst retaining a dignified stature and not going crazy at the podium.

We started off with Gershwin’s Strike Up The Band overture. It’s a rarely performed musical – a political satire, where America declares war on Switzerland because of a disputed tariff on Swiss cheese. The American public has never cared for self-ridicule or questioning patriotism in its musicals, and despite its score and lyrics, it didn’t go down well. The overture gives you a wonderful taste of what a good musical it probably was. With its instantly appealing military-style drums and whistles, its effect is to mix up all the best show tunes with some Yankee Doodle Dandy. The result is a very stirring piece that makes you jiggle around in your seat, and the RPO were obviously going to be on fine form.

Whilst the Grand Piano was being moved into position, Mr Shelley gave us some introductory background to the first couple of pieces – and it’s absolutely the best way to take your mind off the piano-shifters; it’s such a shame that these practicalities can’t somehow be taken care of more unobtrusively. And it’s a lovely new piano too, by the looks of it. With each half of the concert structured as American-Russian-American, it was time for Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No 3, with our soloist, Boris Giltburg, himself born in Moscow. I’ve heard many of Prokofiev’s compositions over the years and he’s among my absolute favourite composers; but this Piano Concerto was new to me. It’s a challenging piece! Complicated and stunning at the same time, I particularly liked the second movement which takes the form of a theme and variations; a wonderful seething mass of creativity.

Mr Giltburg is a pianist of immense style. From my vantage point in Row H of the stalls, you get a first rate view of the pianist’s hands, and my word Mr Giltburg’s were working like the clappers. Much of the music is exceptionally fast-moving, and his hands had to play industrial leapfrog to get every note reached. His technical accuracy was extraordinary; and he adopts an interesting posture whilst playing – quite upright, but bouncing his bottom up and down on the stool when things get lively, like he was taking his horse over some rough ground. The sound he produces is superb – strong, passionate, full of Prokofiev-like spikiness and unpredictability.

Mr Giltburg returned for the last piece before the interval, Gershwin’s I Got Rhythm Variations. A fascinating contrast with the concerto before, we returned to the showbizzy jazz hands New York element, giving the orchestra another opportunity to sing out some stunning arrangements, and for Mr Giltburg to show us his more emotional and expressive side. Another really entertaining performance. I was impressed to find out that Mr Giltsburg writes a blog – and it’s much more erudite than mine.

After the interval, it was time for Bernstein’s West Side Story: Symphonic Dances. Confession time, and I know it can get me thrown out of the Musicals Appreciation Club, but I’ve always found West Side Story a bit overrated. I know it has a massively significant place in the history of the musical – but as a show, and as a score, it doesn’t quite do it for me. However, it was wonderful to hear this symphonic arrangement. Nine movements take some of the show’s best tunes and either give each one a stunning orchestral interpretation, or use them as the basis for some off-kilter and quirky variations. Any orchestral performance which includes the conductor and musicians clicking their fingers, or occasionally shouting “Mambo!” can’t be all bad. There were wonderful changes of mood, too, with some movements really vivid and lively, where all the instruments have to dash out notes faster than you could say “A boy like that could kill your brother”; others were more languid and mellow. I especially enjoyed the cha-cha interpretation of the classic song Maria. Overall the tunes mingle so beautifully together; I much preferred hearing them this way. I also loved John Alley’s celeste contributions to this piece – they fitted in so well.

Back to the Russians, for Stravinsky’s Suite for Small Orchestra No 2. Mr Shelley described this little entertainment as the equivalent of a musical amuse bouche. Four short dances, full of hilarious phrasing and boisterous arrangements, assembled together to form an irresistible confection. Great fun, although perhaps slightly frustrating too, as you kind of want to hear some of these musical ideas developed a bit further. But it couldn’t help but entertain and make you smile.

The final piece, and the one that acted as a unifying theme for the entire evening, was Gershwin’s An American in Paris. Again we’re back to that Gershwinian swing sound, full of lush orchestrations that the RPO could really get their teeth into. More celeste, and even some taxi horns created a convincing musical representation of the French capital, and you can easily imagine this American guy walking around, bringing his home influences with him as he culture-clashes with the more elegant Gallic atmosphere. I’m not as fond of this music as I am Rhapsody in Blue, but nevertheless it was still a very entertaining way to wrap up the concert.

Always a privilege to see the Royal Philharmonic perform, and when they put together such a varied and exciting programme as this, it makes me very grateful I live so close to the theatre. They’re back in February – you should come too!

Review – Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Last Night of the Derngate Proms, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 15th July 2012

Posted on July 16, 2012 by therealchrisparkle

Whilst the Royal Albert Hall is enjoying the opening week of its Proms season, here in Northampton we’re ahead of the game, with Sunday’s Last Night of the Proms concert marking the end of the 2011-2012 Subscription Season. The Derngate was packed. Whilst I was ordering the drinkies, Mrs Chrisparkle had to text me from the far side of the foyer where she was attempting to purchase a programme to say it was so busy it would be some time before we would be reunited. When the theatre is this packed it’s good news for everyone!

The avuncular Owain Arwel Hughes was in command of a feisty Royal Philharmonic, and it was to be an evening of bite sized chunks of classical fireworks. We started off with O Fortuna from Carmina Burana – always a great wake-up call. The orchestra were clearly in fine form, and the Northampton Bach Choir gave it all they had. From our vantage point, Mrs Chrisparkle and I had an excellent clear view of the percussion section – on the far left side of the orchestra instead of their normal position at the back. It was fascinating to watch the skill and concentration required to manage the wide range of percussion instruments from the huge gong to the little triangle. It’s a full second between banging the gong and the rich sound emanating from it, something I certainly hadn’t realised before. Anyway O Fortuna was a cracking start, although inside I did feel a little sorry that they weren’t going to play the entire Carmina Burana. Maybe next season?

Next we had Va Pensiero from Verdi’s Nabucco, an opera, not a manufacturer of biscuits as I had once erroneously believed. Again a great rendition from the choir and a charming gentle contrast with the crisp oomph of the Orff. Tchaikovsky’s Polonaise from Eugene Onegin followed, a great tune and the RPO gave it full colour and dynamism – a really enjoyable performance. It was at this point that I started to watch the interaction between an older violinist in the front row and the young pretender sitting next to him. The younger man was very courteous in his dealings with the older – it was as though by sharing the same music stand he was gaining wisdom and experience from the older man. It was quite intriguing and I feel it helped both of their performances. It was just one of a number of interactions we observed within members of the orchestra that evening.

Then we had Fauré’s Cantique de Jean Racine, a new piece for me. I loved the beauty of the cello playing, delightfully highlighted by Suzy Willison-Kawalec on the harp. But I did think the choir was a bit off on this one. It all started to sound a bit muddy somehow. By the time we had moved on to Vaughan Williams’ O Clap Your Hands, another première to my eardrums, I felt the choir had got distinctly ragged. T sounds ricocheted all over the place and there were enough loose sibilants to suggest the Reptile House at Regent’s Park. Maybe they needed an interval break.

Before the interval though, came the definite highlight of the night – Viv McLean as the soloist for a performance of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue. The orchestra gave a great rendition of the seedier sounds of Manhattan that the piece is meant to represent – the introduction, for example, sent tingles up my spine. I loved the percussion giving it the Cuba rhythms, and the brass sounded tough and industrial. But Viv McLean’s performance was just superb. He really expressed what Gershwin described as the “Metropolitan Madness” of the piece, and you could hear the sound of carriages over steely train tracks that were Gershwin’s inspiration. A great performance that sent us in for our interval Chenin Blanc on a happy high. I did however observe another rather odd interaction, this time between the two cellists at the front. One was rolling her eyes in a “forchrissake” sort of way, and the other one was trying not to laugh at her. Not sure what it was that warranted this slightly unprofessional behaviour but it didn’t look terribly respectful.

After the interval we were welcomed back with Rossini’s William Tell Overture and what was possibly the orchestra’s best performance of the night. The cellists were back on best behaviour and the sound they produced for the first part of the overture was pure and stunning. The whole orchestra brought out the tunefulness of the piece – particularly that first three quarters that you don’t always hear. And when it came to the famous Lone Ranger finale, they played with such gusto and verve that it was a sheer delight.

Next we had the third and last piece of music that was new to me, Mozart’s Ave Verum Corpus. It was quietly elegant and charming but made such a huge contrast to the Rossini that I barely noticed it before it was over. Moving on to Elgar’s Nimrod from the Enigma Variations; always a stirring theme and played beautifully. It’s just one of those pieces that you can never tire of hearing. Whilst I was beaming reflectively at the music, Mrs C had started to get irked by the apparent grumpiness of the lady violinist at the front. Mrs C had commented “Crack a smile, can’t you?” under her breath a couple of times when the orchestra members had stood to receive applause. After the Elgar, or maybe the Parry following it, this lady and the violinist next to her started having a very sulky looking chat about something that was obviously disturbing them both. “Why do they do it when it looks so awful?” asked Mrs C. Why indeed?

Anyway, the Parry; “I was Glad” was the piece, and it’s one I can never remember until I hear it and then I remember how much I like it. A complex work and the choir gave it a brave stab – and it did come over as a very joyous experience, so job done. More Elgar, with Pomp and Circumstance March No 4; very smartly done, and definitely getting the increasingly jingoistic Northampton audience to prepare for some interaction. Large flags were beginning to get unfurled over boxes. The rustle of mini flags being waved in time with the music was starting to get louder. Sir Henry Wood’s Fantasia on British Sea Songs kicked in with a beautiful and emotional Tom Bowling, followed by the Hornpipe, which Mr Hughes encouraged us to clap along with – softly at first, then going the Full Monty. Rule Britannia had us all in patriotic voice, especially the second time when, again at Mr Hughes’ behest, we all stood up to let rip. Finally came Jerusalem, one of my favourite pieces of music of all time, and you will be pleased to know that, without needing to refer to the words, I gave a splendid performance. For an encore they performed the racy Can-Can from Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underworld, adding a French and German touch to our otherwise very British finale.

So thanks to the RPO for another year’s superb concerts which we have really enjoyed – and it’s full steam ahead for some very juicy classical prospects in next year’s season, which will be starting in September with inter alia Jack Liebeck as soloist in Sibelius’ Violin Concerto. Can’t wait!

The Real Chrisparkle

Tag Archives: Royal Philarmonic Orchestra